


part 9 b.

by hdarchive



Series: Heartstrings Verse [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Nerd!Blaine, Oral Sex, Skank!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hdarchive/pseuds/hdarchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt learns what sex really is when he finally realizes what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	part 9 b.

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: oral

On Blaine’s bed the second time around and there’s a huge difference from the first.

When he got the call, it was late, the winter sky turning to a strange hue of blue-grey, snowflakes just barely falling. And Blaine had said, like he wasn’t trying to be obvious, like he wasn’t trying to sound hopeful, “Would you like to come over?” and Kurt found a way.

He stood shivering at the doorstep, one arm pinned against him, the other shaking as he fought the cold to bring a cigarette to his lips, and he wondered if this was a good idea.

He can’t bring Blaine over to his house anymore. Not when they're studying and his dad will walk in, sit down, and carry out a regular conversation with Blaine like it’s nothing.

Kurt can hardly do that.

And when Blaine leaves his dad will never fail to ask  _so you’re sure he’s just your tutor?_

And Kurt can only say  _for crying out loud, yes!_  so many times.

He wishes his dad didn’t look so hopeful. But he guesses, that when you lose something, you become desperate to find it. _I’m not missing, I’m right here._

Being on Blaine’s bed now is strange since the last time he was on it, well - he felt blood boiling bliss and Blaine’s hands on him and his body over Blaine’s and -

Blaine gave him a shirt to wear. Handed it over with a smile on his face and Kurt hesitated to accept it, looked at it as if it might burn him, and changed in the bathroom. And then, after Kurt saying he’ll take the ground, and Blaine insisting that it’s not good for his back, they fell asleep together.

Being on his bed now is Kurt trying not to live in those memories because Blaine is pacing the room, a blur in front of his eyes, walking back and forth with his hands on his hips.

Kurt takes one final sip of the hot chocolate Blaine made for him and sets it down. Then he pulls his legs up to his chest, wraps the ends of his sweater around himself and hunches over.

There are trophies on his shelves, awards on the walls. All his accomplishments staring him in the face, a constant reminder of the good he’s done, and yet - and yet Blaine can’t see that. Walks right past them, walks right past Kurt.

He’s never seen anyone so anxious the way Blaine was during the days leading up to the application deadline.

There are too many kisses to count by now, each different than the last, but the one Kurt will remember - the one he thinks about the most as of now - is the day Blaine found him far under the bleachers. They’ve kissed there before, of course, in their early days (and the fact that they have _early days_  is a fact that Kurt tries to push out) it’s the only place Kurt really allowed it.

But this one. This one was Blaine sitting next to Kurt on the ground. This was Blaine putting his hands to his eyes and sighing, shrinking, and it was Kurt putting his cigarette out and laying a hand on his shoulder.

Blaine, who finally looked at him, and without sparing another breath, pressed his lips against Kurt’s, holding his jaw, and even though Kurt’s mouth was all smoke he didn’t back away.

Kurt doesn’t think about his future the way Blaine does his.

For a while he was sure he didn’t have one. He doesn’t even know what he likes, he just wants to get out. But where is he even going?

And for a while he didn’t have Blaine. But now.

“Do you want to study?” Kurt asks, chin on his knees, arms around his legs.

Blaine turns sharply to face him, cold glare in his eyes. Cold glare until he seems to realize who he’s talking to, and then it melts. “No,” he says, laughs awkwardly. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

Kurt’s back goes straighter, shoulders flexing back. “What - Blaine. Why did you even ask me to come over?”

He sits still as Blaine gets down on the bed, next to him, folding his legs and letting his knee brush Kurt’s side.

He can’t take his eyes off of him, can’t look away from the way Blaine’s mouth forms different shapes, as he looks down at his hands and fiddles his thumbs.

“Well, I, um, I missed you.”

Strange how a million and one kisses and hearing those words has Kurt feeling his weakest. He snaps his eyes shut and turns his head, but the one thing he can’t control is the slow spread of his smile.

“You’re the one spending all your time with that miniature tyrant,” he makes himself say.

Which shouldn’t spite him but it does. Because isn’t she the reason this happened in the first place. Isn’t this why Kurt can hardly show his face at school in fear of being hurt? And wasn’t glee club the entire start to this? To the end of that Kurt Hummel and the start to this one?

Nobody defending him. Nobody saying  _this isn’t right. Stop it._

Kurt had to be selfish, Kurt had to swallow it down. Kurt had to get out.

There are too many factors to blame. If he hadn’t kissed Blaine, so stupidly, so oblivious and ignorant to the walls around them . . 

Why can’t he stop? It would all go away if he just stopped.

“Glee club is actually fun, Kurt. I’m good at it.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffs, inches himself away from Blaine. “You’re good at everything, Blaine.”

Light flashes off of Blaine’s glasses as he tilts his head to glare at him. “I’m  _really_  good at it.”

Kurt raises his hands in the air and shrugs, trying not to grin and failing as he says, “Whatever you say, Mr. Obnoxious.”

He nearly squeaks when Blaine surges forward, hands pushing at his shoulders until Kurt collapses with his head to the pillows. And then he stills as Blaine leans over him, still and waiting, because it’s been too long since their last kiss - not that Kurt’s been waiting.

But instead Blaine nudges his nose against his, smiles, and for the first time since Kurt got here - maybe the first time since this started - Blaine fully breathes.

And he won’t deny it. He won’t deny the fact that he misses him too. He won’t admit it, not the way Blaine does, but he won’t say no.

If there were no walls, if there was nobody looking in, if there weren’t people who wanted to hurt him.

Would he still deny that.

Him.

When did this even start, when did he start to live each day differently because of him. When did he start waking up with a leap in his pulse, a stutter to his heart, his name on his mind . . ?

“Sorry, I just -” Blaine says against his mouth, dropping his forehead to his. “I did everything I could. I joined all these clubs and I tutored and I aced every possible exam there was and - what if it’s not enough?”

He considers him, Blaine so close; takes in the grey to his skin, the shadows under his eyes. “You’re getting in.”

“But what if I don’t?”

He bends his arms so he can brush his fingers over Blaine’s wrist, swallows and says, “Blaine, you’re the most - intelligent kid at that school. Of course you got in. And if you didn’t . . I’ll go up there and kick their asses.”

Blaine lets out a breathy laugh. “I’d like to see that.”

Kurt smiles, lips together. “Me too.”

He doesn’t get off, and Kurt’s heart pounds underneath his chest, Blaine’s chest, and he waits some more because this has been going on ridiculously long, when Blaine leans onto one arm, reaches up to trace his fingers over his eyebrow piercing.

Always fascinated by it, asking if it hurt, asking why he got it, if he considered the dangers and health risks and the future repercussions. Kurt had said _it looks cool, I don’t care_. Because there’s something about shoving metal through your skin that makes it so solely  _you_ , only you can make that choice, only you can do that to yourself.

Blaine breathes, light and warm over Kurt’s face, eyes up at the piercing, and Kurt thinks  _finally_ , when Blaine gets up and rolls over.

Blaine opens his mouth and sucks in air and says all at once, “It’s just that my dad is expecting this, and if he gets upset then my mom will get upset, and they haven’t been upset since Cooper left - and they went crazy - and -”

Groan rattling in his throat, Kurt hauls himself up, arms resting on his bent knees, and stares at him. So close, almost there -

The ground once fell underneath him, and Kurt almost caved in, but Blaine had grabbed on, held tight. Held tight and even though things weren’t okay - aren’t okay - he was there.

And Kurt hasn’t ever felt so useless until now. He doesn’t know how to help him. Not the way he helped Kurt.

He wants to know when it came down to this. To needing each other. Blaine called him here for a reason, and Kurt came without a question. Needing each other, but not allowed to -

“It’s okay, Blaine,” Kurt tries, and feels sick just saying it because he believes it but he can’t prove it. And how did Blaine do that? How did he lie to Kurt and make Kurt want to believe it?

“No, it’s not okay. This is my future, Kurt!” Blaine shouts, hands waving in the air before he slips off his glasses, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“Blaine.”

Hand on Blaine’s leg. Blaine isn’t Kurt, he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move, he just accepts it like it’s another part of him. Hand on Blaine’s leg, fingers spreading out, one by one, and he feels himself shake.

“- I won’t be able to sleep until it gets here -”

He moves it up. A rock hardens in his throat that he can’t breathe around, can’t swallow down, and he already knows there’s no way to move past it.

Blaine stills. He moves his hands away from his eyes, a fraction of an inch, bends his neck so he can look up at Kurt.

Kurt’s hand is around his thigh now, fingers twitching, shaking, and he can’t stop it but he can’t pull away.

He stares at the way he fits over Blaine, the way his body is under his.

When you touch me, I want it. When you touch me, I want to let you through.

When you kiss me I want it more than anything.

I want -

I can’t say it. I don’t know what it is.

As he drags his hand higher, heart stuck somewhere in his rib cage, fighting to get out, he lets his eyes drift to Blaine’s. And even if his eyes are soft and warm Kurt feels the bolt of fear down his spine like it’s  _lightning_.

I want you.

Blaine’s mouth opens, closes, and he says like he can’t breathe, “Kurt.”

And Kurt finally swallows, hand finally over Blaine. “Just - can I -”

Blaine shifts onto his elbows and leans up, warmth from his gaze gone and replaced with urgency. “Kurt?”

“Can I?”

He asks because Blaine doesn’t flinch when he touches him, but what if he doesn’t want  _this_?

Blaine hurls himself forward, sitting properly, and Kurt doesn’t flinch when he rests a hand on his cheek, swiping his thumb.

I want you.

Making his eyes reach Blaine’s when he’s this close is like a magnetic pull, he has to, doesn’t want to but he looks and sees - sees the way Blaine swallows, sees the clench of his jaw, feels the shuddering of his breath.

And what does Blaine see?

After all this time he doesn’t know.

Blaine asks, “Are you sure?”

He thinks, because there’s a part of him somewhere that’s sure, but it can’t be his hands because they’re shaking and it can’t be his heart because it’s racing.

With a small grin, he whispers, “If it’ll get you to shut up . . “

And Blaine’s grin is wider, a pink flush heating his cheeks, and the hand he has on Kurt pushes gently. “I’m serious Kurt.”

Kurt nods, and he lets Blaine’s fingers drag through his hair before he sinks to the ground.

He’s never done this, he’s never been here. He’s never had his pulse beat so heavy he feels it tug at his veins, never felt such sudden fear stab through him, but he’s never had someone like  _him_.

Blaine slides down the bed until he’s at the edge, Kurt kneeling between his legs.

He’s never done this and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Before, sex was his hands cramping from wringing them so tightly, sex was his pants not even halfway down his legs.

He feels the way Blaine hardens under his hand, rubbing his palm over the length of him through his pants. Every movement and his bones feel like cracking, every muscle feels like it’s stretching, but this is Blaine.

Strength and courage building in his spine, up his neck, Kurt dares a chance and forces his chin up, eyes meeting Blaine’s. And Blaine staring down at him is like - ice. Not warm, but far from unwelcoming. And he doesn’t know how, can’t compare it to anything else except for the snow falling outside.

Last time it was an accident. He never meant to do that to Blaine, couldn’t believe he did that to Blaine, that Blaine could transform and melt into a thirst-driven animal and grab him like that. He can’t believe it now, with his hand over him, fingers curling, pressing. He feels bolder, the weight of knowledge and memory lining heavy in his cracking bones.

He thinks of that shirt that Blaine lent him. It’s still buried far in his dresser at home. Maybe that’s why he can’t have Blaine over now; he doesn’t want to give it back.

When Blaine groans, a small, roughened sound, and drops his head back, Kurt smirks.

Hearing Blaine say words, make noises, that he would never in a million years think of uttering, but does because of Kurt - makes Kurt feel something twist tight in his stomach.

He forces his shaking fingers up, pinches the zipper harder than he needs to but he  _can’t_ control himself, and pulls down.

And when he tries to tug Blaine’s pants down a bit further, his fingers catch, and before confusion can pass in his mind Kurt feels laughter erupt bright in his chest. He feels his spine give out, let go, and he falls forward with his head resting against Blaine’s thigh.

“What - ?” Blaine chokes, resettling himself.

Kurt can’t even lift his neck up, he’s still laughing, breathlessly. “Blaine, your -”

And now, sex is having to reach and unclip the suspenders holding Blaine’s pants up.

It’s Blaine’s laugh, hard and loud and squeaking. It’s Kurt, who presses his smile deep into Blaine’s leg, eyes catching his. Blaine, who smiles back, red across his face before he looks away.

Kurt would sort of be content with just sitting there, Blaine smiling and warm around him. But he’s still hard and prodding under Kurt’s hand, so he wills his back straight, and leans up.

When Blaine’s pants are lowered, only slightly, Kurt feels his heartbeat escalate, thunderous in his throat. Tugging them further and further, until he’s -

Kurt blinks and Blaine’s groan is far different than any others, a shameful crack in his voice.

“Don’t. Say. A. Word.” Blaine breathes out hard, one hand over his face.

And sex is Kurt’s uncontrollable grin, his fingers digging under the waistband of Blaine’s Iron Man boxers and snapping it. “I wouldn’t dare.”

Once the warmth radiates outwards, his insides feel chilled, iced over. He doesn’t know why, but then he swallows, and Blaine meets his gaze, and - his eyes, like the snow outside, are asking;

Asking asking -  _are you sure?_

It’s Blaine opening the door for Kurt to walk out, and it’s Kurt closing it.

With a new heat rushing through him, pooling in his lungs and his stomach and his toes, Kurt grips the band of his underwear, and before he completely passes out, he pulls it down.

Pulls down until Blaine is - in front of him. And Kurt was once so sure if he had to do it again he’d black out, that his heart would stop, that he wouldn’t be able to breathe - and maybe all that is true, but with Blaine sort of naked in front of him it’s for an entirely different reason.

And he truly doesn’t know what to do, panic hot through his face, loud in his ears, and Blaine -  _Blaine_  - is right there in front of him.

But this is Blaine.

There can be a few bumps in the road - their road is paved with obstacles, isn’t it? - and he can make mistakes, he can try to fade in front of Blaine and fail because this is  _Blaine_.

He trusts him, he trusts and he -

He touches him, delicate brush of his fingers, trailing up, and Blaine jolts like Kurt’s skin is made of electricity.

It’s nothing like the first time. Because when Blaine jolts, Kurt feels it too, his heart whacking itself upside his ribcage to get out - to get to him.

Light, soft grip on Blaine, he strokes upward, hand curling around his cock. He listens for the  _stop_ , for the _no more_ , for the  _I don’t want this_. It never comes. Instead; Blaine breathes hard, harsh, and tilts to face the ceiling.

His experience in the bathroom stall was dark, dimmed, disgusting.

In Blaine’s room, the lights are on, curtains opened to expose the winter of outside. And this isn’t a stranger, this is Blaine. So when Kurt looks to where his hand is working in quicker strokes, Blaine’s cock pushing through the damp skin of Kurt’s palm - he wants it.

Blaine makes a noise that could pass for a cry, and Kurt sees that he’s holding too tight, and when he bucks up, hard, Kurt almost loses his balance but he doesn’t stop.

“Is this - is this okay?” Kurt can’t help but ask.

To the ceiling, deep, loud breathing, Blaine pants, “- uh huh -”

Kurt spreads his hand further, and with his heart climbing higher until he’s almost throwing it up, he touches the head of Blaine’s cock. Swipes his thumb over the edge, the wet skin, wetter slit. And if Blaine’s cry didn’t shock him all the way to his core, he’d pass out.

“It’s just -” Blaine gasps, resting on his elbows.

The panic soars, draping over him, and his hand freezes where he’s holding Blaine.

“It’s a little dry.”

Doesn’t know what to do doesn’t know what -

Thinking, courage rising through every knob of his spine until it’s a pressure on his back and he’s leaning forward.

There’s no time for him to swallow, to breathe, before his lips are parting around the crown of his cock, tongue brushing out. Hot, swollen skin under his tongue, and he can’t focus on anything else except for sliding it tentatively around the ridge.

He hardly feels Blaine’s hand strike through his hair, fingers gripping tight at the pink strands.

Blaine is - wide, and he doesn’t know how to work his hand and his mouth at the same time just yet, so he slides his tongue down, down, can’t be dry.

He thinks he hears his name being called, he doesn’t know.

He does wonder, however, what it’s like. He fits what he can into his mouth, sinking down, slow, because if he goes too fast his mind will break. And Blaine keeps moving, straining against the bed, one hand in Kurt’s hair and one in the blanket, struggling to not snap up.

Can’t be dry but maybe now it’s too wet, his mouth feels so full, stretched, and when Blaine’s fingernails scrape against his scalp before pulling away, he feels it. Feels a slow drag, slow burn, down through his head and over his back, pulled through his stomach.

This is Blaine.

He thinks of Blaine’s laugh, Blaine’s eyes, Blaine’s lips.

And he thinks, one day.

Maybe.

One day maybe you -

He can’t go any deeper, tears pricking hot at his eyes, so he pulls back, fingers stroking up the wet mess that he’s created.

Pulling back he can hear again; Blaine sucking in drags of air, just barely rasping them out. And like last time, sounds that he never thought he’d hear, Blaine moaning, makes parts of him jump to life. Leaning forward, eyes dragging up the length of Blaine’s body, he laps at his head, knows how sensitive he is there.

Blaine’s hand darts forward, pulling hard at his hair, and Kurt can’t make any noises of protest when his tongue is busy flicking at Blaine’s slit.

“Kurt -”

He doesn’t stop then, just closes his eyes, works through the sting of his jaw.

“I’m - I’m -”

Blaine pulls, and Kurt’s head is forced back, eyes wide and sharp on Blaine’s, who’s staring back with something flashing in his.

“ _Kurt._ ”

Kurt nods, hand still wrapped around the base, pulls it slow, slow, wet glide of his fingers, going for teasing and it must work because with one final shove of his hips, Blaine lifts off the bed and comes in his hand.

In his hand.

And Kurt can’t look away - he’s never - not then.

He did that to him. He stole his breath and he was the reason for those sounds.

Kurt can’t look away, staring wide eyed where Blaine’s come streaks his hand, and he hardly feels Blaine shift underneath him, legs pulling away.

Doesn’t notice anything except for the jump of his heart until there are hands around his arms, hauling him to his feet, and he stumbles to the bed.

Blaine has one arm around him, the other wiping at his hand with a tissue - and Kurt hopes he wasn’t on the ground staring at his come-covered hand for too long, but Blaine is still panting, hot over Kurt’s neck.

Blaine goes down, slumps into the bed and takes Kurt with him. Turned to each other, Blaine leans forward and presses his lips to Kurt’s forehead.

“Kurt,” he says, carefully. And then, as if he’s choosing these to be his last words, “Thank you.”

Kurt nudges his forehead up, brushing Blaine’s jaw with his hair. Voice almost shot through, he rasps, “Only you would say thank you for a blow job.”

He can feel Blaine’s soft breath of laughter, the hand on his chin making him look up, Blaine’s nose nudging his.

And then his lips on his, melting into Kurt’s.

He doesn’t kiss back, just blinks at him.

“Blaine - gross -”

Voice so close, quiet, he says, “You never hear me complain about your smoking -”

Kurt’s eyes grow wide before he narrows them, one hand coming up to grab at the collar of Blaine’s shirt. “ _You complain all the time -_ ”

Blaine grins, and this time, when Blaine’s lips close over is, he kisses back. Closes his eyes and hums.

“What about you?” Blaine asks once they break apart, eyes darting down.

Kurt only has the strength to shake his head.

Blaine’s lips are swollen - he can’t even imagine what his own look like - and his eyes are sparkling; the snow outside. The colour returning after so long without.

He doesn’t need anything in return, because he knows it. He feels it everywhere, in a way that no amount of touching could express. He feels it, his heart screaming it, begging for relief.

It’s just - he’s never been allowed to want what he wants.

But this is Blaine.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last part of the verse that I have written so far. I'm finished transferring it from my tumblr! The next part is in the works and I'll try to get it written and edited soon. I really miss this verse.


End file.
